


When I met you downtown

by kneesocks_senpai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Hanamaki Takahiro, Choking, Clubbing, Dick Pics, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Memes, Minor Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Public Masturbation, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sexting, Strangers to Lovers, Top Matsukawa Issei, Unrequited Love, handjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27401389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kneesocks_senpai/pseuds/kneesocks_senpai
Summary: Hanamaki claims himself as a very cool-headed man. He’s not one for rushing into situations without thinking logically (except if there is a down-cut on cream-puffs in his favorite bakery). He doesn’t let his emotions show on his face so easily (again, only if there are no cream puffs involved), nor does he gets super-duper lovey-dovey when it comes to relationships or sex in general. So why, why the fuck does his knees nearly give out when this dark-locked bastard gently nibbles his neck?
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71





	1. What a night

**Author's Note:**

> Started this fic because I miss clubbing, friends, and the whole world in general.  
> Biggest thanks to my beta [Dethna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dethna/pseuds/dethna) – without you this fic would be nothing ♥
> 
> I recommend this [Spotify-Playlist:](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0NqihWSpLj3bu2yFYeJFjv?si=XA4-mbpKR7yVAIG-pcJaYA)  
> First five songs = First chapter  
> 6th song = Title of this fic!  
> I'll update the playlist simultaneously with the fic.
> 
> PS: Idk if you'll ever see this, but thank you [ThatLowkeyHipster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatLowkeyHipster/pseuds/ThatLowkeyHipster) for your kind words on my other fics.

The bass is loud and heavy in Hanamaki's ears. Bodies grinding and rubbing against each other while dancing, the perfect way to spend a Sunday night. From time to time the strobe light makes it look like everything is in slow-motion. Like in one of those hyped music videos, all in shady black and white. 

Hanamaki savors those club nights. He loves the hours spent in the crowded, sweaty room, somewhere between midnight and the breaking of a new morning. When the music made his ears nearly deaf and his feet went numb after hours and hours of dancing, he's happy. Like today. 

The drink in his hand gives him an extra boost. He takes a large sip and slips back into his back and forth dancing motion. He doesn't know if he's a good dancer – and to be honest he doesn't care either. It's not that he was here to put up a show for someone, he just wants to relax and enjoy the night. 

While Hanamaki dances, he lets his eyes run over the crowd. Besides him was a couple dancing – no, more dry humping on each other - gross. The boy's hands are glued on one breast and one ass cheek of the girl, while she does something that looks like mouth-to-mouth insufflation. Oh lord please, get yourself a room! Hanamaki thinks bitterly. It's not that he's envious because he hasn't got laid in months. Or because his roommate constantly brags about his sex life with some guy called “Iwa-chan”. No, definitely not! 

On his left, another man was dancing. All Hanamaki can see are dark locks under the hood of a greyish zip-up hoodie, tight dark pants, and ruby sneakers. His head is tilted to the ground as his upper body moves to the music. Nice, Hanamaki thinks, at least someone here is worth looking at. 

The next song starts to play. The intro is slow but everybody knows what's coming. After a minute or two, everybody put their hands up in the air, waiting for the beat to drop. Hanamaki is no different. There is this excitement filling him, this tension that gives you goosebumps and lets your heart beat a second faster. The beat drops. Bumb, bumb, bumb. Yes, this is life. 

After a while, he glances to the some-kind-of-handsome-dark-locks-guy again. Hanamaki's heart stops for a beat. The cutie (yes he was definitely a cutie) has doffed his zip-up hoodie, exposing a grey button-down, the strips of his bum bag taut diagonally over his chest. His hair is now more rumpled than before – and Hanamaki thinks it makes him even cuter. _And hot. So hot. Fuck._

The some-kind-of-handsome-and-absolutely-cute-and-apparently-fucking-hot-guy runs his fingers through said amazing hair when he glances sideways, meeting Hanamaki's eyes. Hanamaki swears he can see a split second of a smile playing around the corner of his mouth, but it could be the strobe light – and before Hanamaki is sure, the stranger turns his head again, closing his eyes, completely losing himself in the sound waves of deep dashing electronic music. 

Hanamaki decides to do the same, closing his eyes and just feeling the beat. The next song is a calmer remix and he moves his mouth along the well-known lines. This is what he adores. Losing his head in the music, not thinking about the stress at university, upcoming deadlines, his prancing mother (“ _You should find someone to bring home for Christmas!_ ”) or the fact that his alien-addicted roommate was a freaking pain in the ass. 

So he dances and dances but he can't get his mind completely off the handsome guy beside him. When he takes another glance to the side the stranger is nowhere to be seen. Hanamaki turns his head to the other side, glancing at the bar. Still no sight of the handsome man with the dark locks and even darker eyes. Hanamaki pouts in annoyance. Great, another possibility slipped right through my fingers. All hail to my not existing love life. 

His pout doesn't leave his face until he feels a cold puff of air on his hot neck. Hanamaki turns around only to find the grinning dark-locks-guy right behind him. Did he just blow on my neck?! Hanamaki raises his thin eyebrows in a skeptical gaze and turns back to the front. He shakes his head when he starts dancing again. But his cool attitude was just a façade - inside his heart was beating furiously and the pout on his face was replaced by a grin. _Ah, that's great._

The next song starts and Hanamaki uses the short break of slow notes to breathe some of the thick air back into his lungs. Don't lose your focus now, man! You can't let this fucking hot cutie get you so easily, you're a grown-up man, not a - ...

Right when the lyrics start, the stranger grinds against his back. 

_Okay, delete the last thing I said. THIS is awesome._ Hanamaki tilts his head a bit to the side and the dark-haired cutie gets the hint. With his hands on Hanamaki's hips, he places his face right on Hanamaki's neck, nose rubbing on the soft skin right under Hanamaki's ear, while they both move a little bit faster to the beat. Maki moves one hand to the stranger's head, fisting it into the dark locks. They are sweaty but he doesn't mind. It's not that he isn't sweating at well. 

They dance through the song, and the next. When the third one is over, Hanamaki doesn't think twice. He turns around and without a second breath, he pushes his lips onto the stranger's mouth. It's a messy and sloppy kiss. They're both a little disorientated because of the alcohol and music but again, Hanamaki doesn't mind.

When the song ends, the stranger grabs his hand again, his forehead pressed against Hanamaki's, and a mischievous smile on his lips. He says something, but Hanamki can’t make out the sound of the words, so he just stares at the stranger, blinking, waiting. 

“I asked if you want to go for a smoke with me?”, the stranger shouts, now near to Hanamki’s right ear. _Yes, absolutely yes._

That ‘going for a smoke’ is just a nice saying for ‘making out in the alley next to the club’, is something they both don’t mind for sure. The stranger traps Hanamaki against the wall of the alley, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin right next to Hanamakis jawline, leaving the smaller man shuddering under him. For the record: Hanamaki claims himself as a very cool-headed man. He’s not one for rushing into situations without thinking logically (except if there is a down-cut on cream-puffs in his favorite bakery). He doesn’t let his emotions show on his face so easily (again, only if there are no cream puffs involved), nor does he gets super-duper lovey-dovey when it comes to relationships or sex in general. So why, why the fuck does his knees nearly give out when this dark-locked bastard gently nibbles his neck? Is he in his teens again, when fumbling around behind the garage of his best friend's parents was the nicest thrill for a long time?

Fuck, this feels so good. Did he actually whimper? Oh and there’s a hand over his crotch, massaging his already embarrassingly hard dick. When did this happen?! He’s not used to being manhandled, even in a soft form like this. Normally, Maki is a power-bottom. And a proud one for sure. 

The handsome stranger continues to kiss and bite over Hanamaki's neck, while his hands loosen the button and zipper on Maki's pants. Okay, time to get back the upper hand in this game. 

"Wait – before we.. You.. do anything – what's your name?" 

_Smooth, dumbass, smooth. Only talking about the weather would be even better_ , if he could, he would roll his eyes. But his eyes are busy focusing on the face of the guy, handling him and his dick so well. 

"Matsukawa." The man grins. Half-lidded eyes twinkling with amusement. "Nice to meet you." 

"Hanamaki. And likewise", Hanamaki bites on his lips because in the next moment the stranger – no, Matsukawa – grips his dick, and jerks it one, two, three times. Hanamaki's head collides with the wall once more and he thinks, that giving up the upper hand just one time might not be a bad idea after all.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanna quote my favorite Beta:  
> "dumpster cummies are the best maki don't pretend you didn't have fun lol"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Start the Spotify-Playlist at song no.6 "Downtown" :)

The next morning, Hanamaki wakes up to the chime of his phone. There are two new messages: one from Oikawa, who told him he’s out for brunch with “Iwa-chan (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)” – and one from an unknown number.

Unknown  
  
Last night was fun. Wanna meet up today?  
  


Hanamaki is searching for a clue, his laziness drags him close to the edge of a “new phone who dis?” response, but then his brain clicks. Ah yes, the stranger from last night. Matsukawa. Immediately Maki throws one of his many pillows onto his face and groans. Yes, yesterday was fun. It was all fun and games until this guy with bedroom-eyes and fucking magical hands brought him to an orgasm in the middle of an alley right next to a dumpster. Classic Cinderella story. It was all fun until instead of dragging him to the nearby taxi stand, driving home, and fucking him senseless, he tucked Hanamaki’s dick away, petted him on the head (like some kind of reward for a very good ~~dog~~ boy), and walked off into the night. Of course not before asking Hanamaki for his number, and giving him another one of those signature grins as a good-bye. _Just wow. Irony off._

In bed, Hanamaki is throwing himself from left to right – his phone in one hand, the pillow in the other – cursing Matsukawa, and the whole universe for his misery. Because he wasn't going to answer this text. Of course not, because he's not in the mood for some weird I-can-show-you-heaven-with-my-fingers-alone-adventures. He's not in the mood for any adventures (okay, that's a lie, but he is oh so confused by Matsukawa's actions. And Hanamaki hates being confused.)

He's not going to answer. At least not right now. Maybe.

Hanamaki rises from his g̶̶r̶̶a̶̶v̶̶e̶̶ ̶̶o̶̶f̶̶ ̶̶s̶̶h̶̶a̶̶m̶̶e̶ bed, tosses his phone back onto his mattress, and leaves his room to brush his teeth. First things first. When he's halfway through his morning routine, a cup of coffee steaming hot in front of him at the kitchen isle, he hears the keys at the front door.

"Maki-chaaaaaaaan, I'm baaaaack!"

And like an angel with all his grace and glory, his undoubtedly total pain-in-the-ass of a roommate waltzes into their apartment, kicking his shoes (very ungraceful) left and right. 

"Oh, you're up! Finally! Look, what I got you – Iwa-chan said I shouldn't buy you more sweets but I know what my dear Maki-chan needs after a long night!"

With this, Oikawa plops a bag with a logo from a well-known bakery in front of Hanamaki. Inside sits a cupcake, wonderfully decorated with pink frosting and some sprinkles. And while Oikawa prepares a cup of coffee for himself, Hanamaki does the only right thing: he swallows the cupcake whole.

"You're a pig, Maki-chan," Oikawa declares after sitting down next to him, watching Hanamaki swallowing down the last bite of frosting. "And you stink."

"Wow, thank you for this information, oh gracious king and guardian of the almighty scented body spray!", Hanamaki says, but then sniffs at himself – and grimaces. "But you're right, I should probably change this shirt."

Being the lazy shithead he is, Hanamaki pulls the shirt over his head, without moving an inch away from the counter, throwing the clothing behind him, somewhere into the void between the TV, the Couch, and the living room rug. _Let future-Hanamki handle the problem!_

Oikawa whistles.

"Keep your thirst-trap to yourself! Or save something for your precious Iwa-chan", Hanamaki grumbles more to himself and takes another sip of his coffee. Cupcake or not, he's not in the mood for chitchat this morning. Or any chat. 

He misses the glint in Oikawa's eyes.

"So, tell me my lovely Maki-chan, who deflowered your porcelain-like swan neck last night? And did he deflower something else, too?"

Hanamaki halts, putting the coffee mug down slowly, without taking another sip. 

A normal Oikawa is dangerous. He can smell any kind of secrets from a thousand miles away. But an Oikawa who's on the scent of some semi-sexual gossip from his close friends is even more dangerous. But how the fuck did he...?

Oikawa points to his neck, and Hanamaki is puzzled for a moment, until...

"No way...", he groans, stomping off to the bathroom a second time this morning. He can hear Oikawa's laughter up from the hallway, and while he is still not believing this whole shit, there is the unalterable proof of his encounter with Matsukawa last night. Right there, where his shoulder meets his neck: a hickey. It's not a small one nor a light one either. It's one of those dark blue ones, that are going to be there for days, turning from blue to violet, green and yellow, until they finally begin to fade. And it's massive.

He walks straight to his room, ignoring a still chuckling Oikawa in the kitchen, and grabs his phone.

Unknown  
  
Last night was fun. Wanna meet up today?  
  
what the fuck??!!  
📎 _1 Attachment_   
  


He types furiously to Matsukawa. Attached is a photo of his hickey too.

He is at least grateful, there won't be any study group meetings on Monday, only lectures, where he can disguise his hickey with a turkle-neck or something else out of Oikawa's closet. While he thinks about how his choice of clothes for the next week is limited, his phone chimes again. And again. And again.

Unknown  
  
what the fuck??!!  
📎 _1 Attachment_   
  
Nice one.  
  
👌  
  
But I'm sorry if it was too much.  
  
Wanna get some coffee? I'm paying.

Hanamaki ponders his choices. Meeting Matsukawa for a second time might be weird, since the last time was so abnormally odd (yeah, he got an orgasm out of it, but still weird). But on the other hand, there’s free coffee. And, he has to be honest to himself, maybe, just maybe Matsukawa isn’t odd – just not a dumb fuck boy like the other “dates” he had in the last years.

"I'm out.", he shouts to Oikawa, while tying his shoes.

"With whom? Hickey guy?" He can practically hear Oikawa's knowing grin.

"Mhmm."

"What are you guys up to?"

"Getting coffee."

"Make sure to text me halfway through, so I know he's not a crazy ax murderer." Hanamaki is sure there was nobody as crazy as Oikawa when it comes to dating, but he understands the concern of his friend. So he bows as he would do in front of an aristocrat.

"Will do so, my lord!" And shuts the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your opinion ♥  
> Leave some love – or songs that reminded you of this fic!


	3. Of coffee, train rides, and pretty dicks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Hanamaki begins, taking another sip of this sugary coffee creation, “What are ya’ doing for a living?”  
> “Burying people.” A sly smile plays around Matsukawa's mouth, showing some of his white teeth, as Hanamaki's eyes go wide for a split second.  
> “Are they already dead or is this part of your job, too?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta-reader is a sexy beasty queen, and I really love her!
> 
> PS: PRAISE YOURSELF, the smut is coming! You can start the spotify playlist at title no 8 ("Falling back")

_This is not so bad_ , Hanamaki thinks to himself, as he slurps his double-chocolate-mochaccino with extra hazelnut syrup, and extra cream through a thick straw. He isn't quite sure if he means the drink, Matsukawa – or both.

When he entered the small café a few minutes ago, Matsukawa had already been there, scrolling through his phone, and sipping casually on a small cup of what later turned out to be a doppio, a double shot of espresso. How predictable for the mysterious stranger to have a pretty dark taste of coffee.

While waiting for his order at the counter, Hanamaki had used the small moment to check the other out. In daylight, Matsukawa seemed older than back at the club. His face was a little wrinkly like he had just rolled out of bed, and he obviously hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, resulting in dark beard stubbles. Hanamaki thinks about how those stubbles felt on his skin the night before. How he felt them, when Matsukawa fondled him, and his dick... _Fuck.  
_ Luckily for himself (and his dick), the server had called his order, jerking Hanamaki from his thirsty thoughts. With the sugar bomb in his hands, he had walked over to the table.

“Hey.” Hanamaki had plopped down on the other side of the table and took a big sip from his drink. Matsukawa had looked up from his phone – taking a second to recognize the other – and smiled.

“Hi.” Noticing the other one had already taken care of his drink, a small crease had formed between his eyes. “I said I’ll pay.”

“You can send me the money. Or buy me a cream puff. Or two. I don’t mind.” Matsukawa had raised his brows in amusement. And with that, they had fallen into a comfortable conversation.

“So,” Hanamaki begins, taking another sip of this sugary coffee creation, “What are ya’ doing for a living?”

“Burying people.” A sly smile plays around Matsukawa's mouth, showing some of his white teeth, as Hanamaki's eyes go wide for a split second.

“Are they already dead or is this part of your job, too?” Now Matsukawa laughs. A low, husky laugh, that sends prickles over Hanamaki’s neck.

“No worries. I’m working as a mortician’s assistant. So, for the record, I don’t kill people, and to be honest, I don’t bury them right away. Normally, I just help with organizing the wake and prepare the body for the cremation. I’m still a trainee, sorts of.”

“So you touch dead people regularly?”

“Yep.”

“That’s so cool.” Matsukawa smiles again.

Halfway through their drinks – well, halfway through Hanamaki’s, Matsukawa had ordered a second espresso sometimes after the first ten minutes – Hanamaki’s phone rings. 

“Ah fuck. I need to take this or the police will be here in fifteen minutes no shit.” Matsukawa laughs and gestures to him to answer his phone.

“Hey, Oikawa…. Yes, I’m fine. …” Side-glance to Matsukawa. ”No, he’s not an ax murder. … Yes, I’m sure. … Mhmm I wouldn’t mind. … Will do ... Okay, yeah, bye.” With that, Hanamaki ends the call. But instead of putting his phone back into his pocket, he snaps a picture of Matsukawa and sends it to Oikawa.

“What was that for?”

“My overly-worried and even more nosy roommate wanted a picture of, and here I quote ‘The mysterious John Doe who put such a massive hickey on my lovely Maki-chan.’ I couldn’t care less, but he is also my best friend. And I’m pretty sure, he’d come here, and see for himself that you’re not some creepy guy, if I don’t send him the picture.”   
To be honest, this whole exchange was far from the norm, and weirder than any other date – or meeting-thing, because, this wasn’t a date, was it? whatever – Hanamaki ever had. But it was fun. And judging by the small grin on Matsukawa’s face, the other thought it was fun, too. _Great._

“And you wouldn’t mind what exactly?”, Matsukawa asks, half-lidded eyes looking pryingly into Hanamaki’s own. He stares back, taking another sip of his drink, to buy some time for weighing out the answers to this question. Hanamaki opts to go for the truth.

“Wouldn’t mind if you’d take me home.” Another sip. Some seconds pass by.

“Well, then let’s go.”

They make their way to the station – (not without Matsukawa buying a cream puff at a small bakery stand at the station.  
“Here, for you.”  
“You’re such a dork, you know that?” Matsukawa just smiles, and pats his head, again) – and take a twenty-minute ride to a quieter neighborhood. The first few stops, the train is so cramped, that they share a small space right next to the door. With his back to Matsukawa, Hanamki looks out of the window, seeing streets, houses, and other stations passing by. He has problems taking it all in because one of Matsukawa’s hands lays on his stomach in some sort of casual way. As if he’s just making sure that Hanamaki stays upright, and isn’t washed out with a crowd of businessmen at the next stop. 

And oh so casually he starts drawing circles with his thumb, right where the button-down shirt is wretched up a few inches, revealing some skin of Hanamaki’s belly.  
If Past-Hanamaki had known how easy it would be for Present-Hanamaki to get a handsome man to take him home, he would be fucking jealous. And he would laugh about Present-Hanamaki, getting so flustered about some touches on the train.

The way to Matsukawa’s apartment is rather short, Hanamaki sends a quick text to Oikawa and shares his location (because even if Matsukawa wasn’t a psycho with an ax, it’s still better to be safe than sorry when it comes to sexy time with almost-strangers).

With a click, the front door opens, and Hanamki is greeted with a view of a rather spacious place. There is a small kitchen space right next to the entrance. The hallway leading from there to the living room is plastered with black and white photographs. _This is nice_ , Hanamaki thinks.

Both of them take off their shoes, Matsukawa leading the way into the apartment. Most of the space in front of two big windows is occupied by a massive couch, a TV, and lots and lots of DVDs. On the left, there is a small staircase leading to the second floor, where the bedroom should be. They come to a halt, looking at each other. Again, there is this enthralling silence, picking on Hanamaki’s guts. He’s lost for words, wondering if they have to dance around the topic, even if they both know why they’re here, but then ...

“Do you want another drink or do you want to fuck?”

Hanamaki laughs, all of his tension falling off of him.

“You’re blunt as fuck.”

“Is this a bad thing?” Matsukawa asks, raising an eyebrow, smiling. He takes another step, closing the distance between them.

“No.” Hanamaki smiles back, and doesn’t stop smiling when Matsukawa's lips meet him for a kiss.

“Holy shit, you’re massive!” Hanamaki shouts when he finally gets to the treasure inside of Matsukawa’s pants.

The other man chuckles, his hand carding through the short strands of washed-out pink hair on Hanamaki’s head.

“I’m sure you can take it anyway.”

“Oh watch me!”

And Matsukawa does. He watches his cock grinding in and out of Hanamaki’s mouth, going deeper, and deeper with every thrust. Tears are streaming down Hanamaki’s face, and he can feel the stinging pain back in his throat, but fuck he loves how Matsukawa groans as he sucks, and licks, and swallows his way around this really superb cock. After some more thrusts, Matsukawa pulls back.

“Stop babe, I don’t wanna come yet.”

His thumb caresses plump lips, which are swollen and covered with saliva.

“You did so well. Now, tell me what you want.”

Hanamaki’s voice is rasped at the first words, but he gets the message out anyway.

“I want you to fuck me. Hard. And I want you to choke me.” He likes how his words make Matsukawa’s eyes glow up.

“Fuck, yes babe. Any safe words?”

“I don’t think we will do anything that calls for a safeword. At least not today. But you see, I can’t talk if you choke me. So I’ll grab your arm the whole time. If I’m reaching my limits, I’ll let go of your arm – and you let go of my neck.”

“Will do.” Matsukawa breathes and kisses him again. Hanamaki can practically taste the hunger on the other’s tongue. 

Soon, they’re both naked. Hanamaki is laying on all fours on Matsukawas bed, his ass up high, with three fingers already buried deep inside of him.

“I know you can take another one babe.” Matsukawa coos, as he dribbles some more lube with his free hand onto Hanamakis rim. He's been preparing Hanamaki for what feels like forever. Always making sure the other is enjoying the trip as much as he is. And his painfully hard cock, that misses the warmth of Hanamaki’s mouth, and longs for something even better, makes clear how much he’s enjoying this, too.   
Matsukawa’s pinky softly but statedly nudges his way in – not without a keen moan from Hanamaki – finally resting nice and tight next to the other fingers. Starting a sinfully slow rhythm of pulls and pushes, Matsukawa takes in the beautiful scenery that lies in front of him.

“You look so good. Just perfect. I can’t wait to fuck you.”  
Hanamaki never knew he had a thing for praise – _boom, big reveal_! But it’s not that he can care right now. He’s a mess, drooling all over the cushions and mattress. His own cock is awfully hard, and Matsukawa makes sure to avoid touching it but to put pressure on Hanamaki’s prostate just every other time, to constantly edge him closer, but never let him experience the longed-for orgasm. So Hanamaki does the only thing that comes to his mind. He begs.

“Please…”

“What?”

“Please, fuck me.”

“I didn't quite hear you….”

“PLEASE. FUCK. ME!”

The chuckle Matsukawa lets out is two octaves deeper than usual, and nearly brings Hanamaki over the edge. But he is determined. He wants to come – badly, oh yes – but not without a dick in his ass.

So when he finally feels Matsukawa retreating his fingers, and hears a condom wrapper is ripped open, he trembles with anticipation. The tip of Matsukawa’s cock is teasing his entrance, and Hanamaki pushes against, yearning for this thick cock to fill him up, just like he needs it. He lets out a lewd moan when it’s finally past his rim, going deeper, and deeper until he can feel Matsukawa thighs on the back of his own. He waits for the first push, but the other stays quiet behind him, not moving at all.  
So Hanamaki tilts his head back – to throw a look and maybe an insult ‘ _to fucking start moving already_ ’ to Matsukawa – but he’s met with a deadly grin.  
That’s just what Matsukawa has been waiting for. He nearly slides out of Hanamaki, only to pound into him again, full-force. He sets a brutal pace, hitting all the right spots. His hands are digging deep into Hanamaki’s hip, already leaving marks.

Hanamaki feels like he’s losing the last bit of his serenity. This is by far one of the most divine fucks he had in his life. And it’s far from over.  
Matsukawa slides out and pushes him over so that he lays on his back. Hanamaki nearly does a split with his legs to make room for Matsukawa, and his glorious cock, that gladly slides in again like it found a home. His own dick, still untouched, and still hard as hell, leaking on his belly.

Matsukawa bows down to bite one of his nipples then licks his way up to Hanamaki's ear.

“You’re taking my cock so good babe. Your ass was made for me!” Matsukawa purrs, and Hanamaki moans because it’s all too much.

He hides his face behind his arm, but as soon as he feels a hand closing around his throat, he throws his cover to hold onto Matsukawa as he promised. The lack of oxygen, when Matsukawa presses slightly against his throat, is all Hanamaki needs to finally find his release. With two more slams of Matsukawa’s cock, he cums all over his stomach, some drops nearly hitting his chest.   
Matsukawa makes sure to fuck him through his orgasm. One more thrust and Hanamaki takes his hand off of Matsukawa’s arm, gasping when the fresh air finally fills his lounges.

“Can I come on your face? I wanna mess you're pretty face up so bad”, Matsukawa groans between his thrusts.

Hanamaki nods, unable to speak. It’s like his mind left his body. Matsukawa literally fucked his brain out. Quickly, the condom is discarded, and Matsukawa kneels over him, panting, and stroking his dick. Hanamaki looks at him with half lidded-eyes – opens his mouth, and pushes his tongue out.

“Oh FUCK”, Matsukawa groans again, shooting his cum all over Hanamakis face. Most of it lands inside his mouth, but he gets some stuck in his hair, and one-shot dangerously close to his eye.  
And while Matsukawa tries to steady his breath, he can’t do anything else, then watches Hanamaki swallowing all of it, licking his lips clean afterward.

“You’re killing me.”

“Same. I didn’t think I could ever function again after you fucked me.” Hanamaki pokes his tongue out. “Can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s the door right to the living room. Use any towel you can find.”

With that, he drops himself back on the bed, and Hanamaki makes his way to clean himself up. He’s a little wobbly on his feet, but makes his way down anyway, knowing there’s a hot shower waiting for him. 

When Hanamaki comes back, he finds Matsukawa on the bed, a laptop opened in front of him.

“Wanna stay over for a bit? I have to fill out some paperwork online, but I can do it from bed. We can get something to eat afterward.”

“Yeah, why not.”, Hanamaki says and cuddles next to the other, making himself comfortable. He must have dozed off at some point because he wakes to the sound of a phone ringing. Matsukawa shuffles beside him, leaving the bed and taking the call downstairs.

“Yes? … What do you want? … No, Rei, listen… We have talked about this. …. No, no we can’t, I can’t. … No, that’s not true, and you know it!”

Hanamaki doesn’t want to eavesdrop. He feels that Matsukawa tries to be quiet, but the person calling must be furious, because he can make out some shouting, even if he’s so far away. 

The late afternoon sun hits through the window, and Hanamaki takes his time to look around in Matsukawa’s bedroom. There are more photographs along the walls, also black and white, like in the hallway. He cradles out of the bed, puts on his underwear, and takes a closer look at them. Most of them are shots of skylines, some group photos with what seems to be Matsukawa’s old school-mates, all in their school attire. The pictures are oddly spread over the walls, with many blank spots between them.

When Hanamaki finishes his round around the room, he retreats back to the bed. It’s in this particular moment, that his eyes catch an opened box, halfway stuck under the bed. He doesn’t think much when he looks inside. There are more framed photographs. Matsukawa with another man. Smiling, laughing, kissing. _Ah, that’s how it is,_ Hanmaki thinks to himself, and pushes the box back under the bed. Hanamaki isn’t dumb, he can put two and two together. The caller, Rei, must be Matsukawa’s ex. And the break up doesn’t seem to be so far in the past.

Hanamaki puts the rest of his clothes on, not wanting to witness the ex-lovers-quarrel any longer. He feels like an intruder. When he buttons-up his shirt, he can hear Matsukawa coming up the stairs.

“Sorry, I needed to take this.”

“No problem, I should probably get going.”

Matsukawa sits down on his bed, rubbing his face with one hand.

“I know the mood is probably ruined, but you really can stay if you want.”

Hanamaki gets the feeling that Matsukawa wants him to stay, despite he’s not so sure why. So he plops on his belly beside the other man, letting his feet dangling off the bed. Matsukawa lays down on his back, and Hanamaki realizes he’s still half-naked. _What a body to look at._

“So… This was your….”, he starts addressing the big elephant in the room.

“My ex,” Matsukawa sighs, “who doesn’t get that we’re not together anymore, and probably won’t be ever again.”

There is silence, but Hanamaki feels there’s more. And because there is this unwritten rule, that if you let yourself get fucked senseless, you can at least have the audacity to listen to their stuff, he takes another breath.

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothing special. We were together for some years but slowly drifted apart, with both of us starting our jobs. He’s an accountant, so he always worked late. Instead of working on our relationship, we both closed our eyes. Well, at least until he cheated on me with one of his co-workers. I only found out because he texted the wrong number. It was like one of those shitty movies.”, he sighs. “But to be honest: I was kind of relieved to have a reason to end it. It wasn’t good for either of us. But apparently, me cutting all ties loose made him clear up, realizing how much I mean to him. So he calls nearly every day, demanding that we work this out, together. Honestly: I don’t want this kind of stress, this constant battle. Not anymore. I really like being unbound – it comes with a lot of benefits.”

With that, Matsukawa throws a smile to Hanamaki from the side, but the latter could only stare at him. That was by far the longest time he heard Matsukawa talk. Slightly unsettled by the stare, Matsukawa adds: “Sorry, this was probably too much bullshit for you. We barely know each other, and here I’m laying, telling you all about my problems, Dr. Freud.”

“No biggie!” Hanamaki punches the other man’s shoulder, but leaves his hand there, a small smile playing on his face. “I totally get you.”

He starts drawing circles on Matsukawas arm. The other exhales, visibly more relaxed than before.

“How about you?”

“Me?” Hanamaki thinks for a moment but doesn’t stop the movement of his hand. “I never had a serious relationship. Well, there have been some guys, and even girls, I tried going out with. But somehow they all weren’t so serious about me. Got my heart broken two, three times. After that, I stopped going for the lovey-dovey relationship things. I’m more a casual type of guy.”

There’s some more pleasant silence between them, both absorbed in Hanamaki’s movements.

“I’m glad.” Matsukawa smiles.

And Hanamaki thinks he wants to see Matsukawa smile like this more often. 

_This is nice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and kind words for this fic! ♥  
> Writing those chapters was like an epiphany for my innerself – and made me incredibly horny.
> 
> Stay safe lovely readers!


	4. Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s not going to jerk off in an izakaya toilet stall. No, he still has some dignity left… dignity... dicknity. He chuckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to start the Spotify-Playlist at song no.11 "Pelota" :)

He doesn’t know how it happened, but some weeks later, he finds himself at an Izakaya with Matsukawa. It shouldn’t be too odd, since they had gone out for dinner some other times before, except for the fact that before they were just the two of them. Now Oikawa is there, sitting next to Matsukawa. And next to Hanamaki is Iwaizumi, Oikawa’s better half.

“Ahhhh so nice to have another couple to go on double dates, isn’t it, Iwa-chan~”, Oikawa coos.

“We’re not dating.”, Hanamaki says quickly. He doesn’t want Matsukawa to get the wrong idea. After the incident at Matsukawa’s, they never talked about the topic of a serious relationship again – and he shouldn’t think that Hanamaki was secretly wishing for more. _Because he wasn’t. Wasn’t he?_

“Oh so you’re not? Well, Matsukawa, you're up for some fun with Iwa-chan and me?”

Iwaizumi nearly chokes on his beer, Matsukawa only laughs, and Hanamaki sets in for the kill:

“Shut it, Oikawa, you’ll kill your boyfriend. Besides, you couldn’t handle Matsukawa’s dick even if you tried.”

Well, that was apparently too much for Iwaizumi to handle, resulting in a coughing fit. Matsukawa laughs even harder, and Oikawa chuckles, too, while Hanamaki claps Iwaizumis back.

“My, my, don’t die on me Iwa-chan~!”, he copies Oikawa, which results in a shout of protest.

“Only I can call Iwa-chan that!”

Hanamaki only pokes his tongue out, and Oikawa grumbles some more.

Luckily, the food arrives, and while they’re all busy stuffing their mouths – and for Iwaizumi’s part, getting some air inside his lounges instead of beer – Hanamaki is lost in his thoughts. He knows that Oikawa’s question was just playful banter, but it had stirred something inside him that should have stayed forgotten. His train of thoughts is interrupted when he feels a foot at his shin, slowly making its way up. He subtly raises an eyebrow and looks across the table. Matsukawa must have taken one of his shoes off to tease him while munching away some chicken-sticks, this sly motherfucker. This, or Oikawa mistook him for his precious Iwa-chan. When the latter stands up to go to the toilet, and the foot stays where it is, Hanamaki is quite sure it’s not Oikawa. The foot wanders higher, now resting neatly between Hanamaki’s thighs. 

_Damn, those pants are too tight._

“Are you okay, Maki-chan? You haven’t eaten a lot. I always tell you to eat properly!” Oikawa asks from across the table.

Hanamaki just glares, but stuffs his mouth with some grilled fish – and has a hard time swallowing, because Matsukawa chooses the exact same moment to start massaging his crotch through the pants. Thankfully Iwaizumi comes back from the bathroom, so Oikawa’s attention is shifted somewhere else, and Hanamaki can immerse himself in his misery. The slow pace of Matsukawa’s foot is nearly killing him. Because it’s all too much – but also not enough. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and tipes a sincere message to the man at the other side of the table.

thicc brows  
  
FUCK YOU!  
  


He knows Matsukawa noticed the vibrating phone in his pocket, but he doesn’t reach for it. Instead his grin grows a bit bigger, and the foot massages a bit stronger. 

_Okay, enough is enough!_

“If you Gentlemen, and Oikawa, will excuse me.” He makes a straight for the bathroom.

When he’s finally inside one of the small safe-spaces aka locked toilet stalls, Hanamaki thinks about what to do next. He’s not going to jerk off in an izakaya toilet stall. No, he still has some dignity left… _dignity... dicknity._ He chuckles. Well, that’s the beer speaking out of him. Still, he’s painfully hard, and it doesn’t seem like any unerotic thoughts will help anytime soon. So Hanamaki switches from helplessness to revenge. Two can play this game.

He takes out his dick, clicks the recording button, and films himself masturbating. He opts for a short clip, as an appetizer, and sends it to Matsukawa. His phone chimes promptly.

thicc brows  
  
FUCK YOU!  
look that's your fault!  
📎 _1 Attachment_   
  
Oh babe, what do you want me to do about it?  
  


Hanamaki chuckles. He switches to the front cam and hits the recording button again. He makes sure to catch in a good light how he sucks around one of his fingers, then another one in his mouth. Send.

thicc brows  
  
Oh babe, what do you want me to do about it?  
  
📎 _1 Attachment_   
  
Fuck. You're so hot.  
I'm thankful the other two are currently arguing bout some volleyball shit I don't understand.  
Keep going babe.  
  


Hanamaki runs on this praise and pumps his now slick fingers around his cock some more, eyes glued to the screen.

thicc brows  
  
Keep going babe.  
Wanna see you cum in the next two minutes.  
You think you can do that for me?  
  


Of course he can. Hanamaki imagines the other one being inside the stall with him, licking him open, touching his dick with those strong hands, those long fingers stretching him open. He imagines how Matsukawa fucks him, while telling him to keep quiet, squeezing his throat to make sure no sounds make it outside of the stall. And because it’s all fantasy and there are no risks, Hanamaki imagines the other one taking him raw, cumming deep inside his ass, pumping his hot semen one, two, three times, making him so full of cum. Hanamaki holds his breath when he finally reaches his orgasm, cum shooting all over his hand.

That was fucking awesome. And a quick glance onto his phone shows him, he stayed in the two minutes mark. _Victory!_ One last time the recording button is hit, and Hanamaki films himself licking the cum off of his hand, popping each finger out of his mouth in the process. Send. He gets his reply right away.

thicc brows  
  
You think you can do that for me?  
  
📎 _1 Attachment_   
  
I'm so fucking hard rn. Can't wait to fuck you babe.  
  


Smiling, Hanamaki zips his pants up, and exits the stall. While he washes his hands at the bathroom sink, his phone chimes another time. But instead of getting another sext, Hanamki frowns at the message.

thicc brows  
  
I'm so fucking hard rn. Can't wait to fuck you babe.  
Hey Rei, I'm free tomorrow. Where do you wanna meet up?  
  


In a blink of an eye, the text is deleted, replaced by another message.

thicc brows  
  
I'm so fucking hard rn. Can't wait to fuck you babe.  
_deleted message_   
Sorry, wrong chat.  
  


There is a strange taste in Hanamaki’s mouth. Almost like he has to throw up.

  
For the rest of the evening something is slightly off. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are still arguing about some volleyball plays when they all pay for the meal, so they don’t really notice the strange atmosphere around Matsukawa and Hanamaki. _Love really turns you blind for your surroundings_ , Hanamaki thinks.

The four bid their goodbye outside of the izakaya, with Oikawa getting some ~~good fucking~~ stuff from Iwaizumis before returning home, and Hanamaki being unsure about what to do next. He tags along with Matsukawa to the nearby station, because it’s on his way anyway. But he feels like he’s burning up inside. He’s somehow angry at Matsukawa. Angry for texting his ex right after he got some really good sexts from Hanamaki. Fuck that, Matsukawa shouldn’t even spend a single thought about Rei after what Hanamaki sent him.

He knows, he doesn’t have the right to feel this way. Matsukawa did nothing wrong. They both made clear they don’t want no relationship out of this, but fuck, this is just like in one of those chickflick movies, where the maincharacter falls for the other one anyway. What the hell are they even? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? Where is this supposed to go? Hanamaki hates himself for asking those questions inside his head, because questions make it all complicated. Maybe he’s too drunk, and maybe his ego is too hurt. So when Matsukawa stops for a smoke right next to the station entry, he blurts out:

"What is.. this… us..?" 

Matsukawa stays silent for a moment, taking another inhale on his cigarette, puffing smoke to the dim light night sky. 

"Is this about the text I falsely sent to you? Don’t worry, Rei just wants to bring over some of my stuff he still has.”

Hanamaki couldn’t say he’s not relieved by this answer, but that was not the one to his question. He keeps staring at Matsukawa.

“That’s not what I meant.”

The other takes another drag, then exhales deeply. Time feels somehow passing slowly. Like you stepped into a gum, that sticks onto your shoe and interferes with every step you take, making it somehow uneasy and bugging to move on. Hanamaki feels like both of his shoes are stuck onto gum. He can’t move, he can only stand there and watch how Matsukawa’s lips move.

“When I told you I don't want anything serious, I was being honest. I'm not good with the whole relationship thing. Maybe I’ve never been. You know how the last boyfriend thing ended. And that's something I don't wanna repeat. I think what we have is fun. You’re cool. And hell, the sex is amazing. I don’t know what would be if we had met under other circumstances. But if you ask me now, if I wanna be in a relationship with you, I have to say no. Relationships mean work, and I don't wanna work in this kind of way. At least not right now. That's selfish, I know. But it's the truth."

Matsukawa looks somehow sad at Hanamaki, who hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. _And that’s how the cookie crumbles_ , he thinks. And it hurts. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it hurts. Bad. He feels like he’s going to throw up again. Perfect slap in the face.

_Fuck you, and your good-looking-thick-eyebrows face. Fuck you, and the fact that I told my friends about you. You even met them. Fuck you for me getting invested too much. Fuck you, and all the stupid feeling I get when I see you_ , is what Hanamaki wants to say to his face. But instead, he keeps this anger deep inside, where all the other emotions of Past-Hanamaki have found their grave, deep inside this dark void of unsaid truths, broken promises, and angst. So much angst. The invisible gum under his feet is still holding him in place, but at least he can breath.

He musters a cheeky grin.

“That’s fine. Really! I knew what I would get myself into when hooking up with you. So no biggie!” He makes a pout to cover his slightly trembling voice: “Even if I’m honestly shocked you didn’t fall for my face, body, and overall superior personality.”

Matsukawa doesn’t seem convinced, so Hanamaki throws in a peace sign for good measurements. _Oh god I’m so ridiculous._

“Really, it’s okay. But let’s move, I really need to get home to piss. Hadn’t had time to use the restroom back at the izakaya for real. I wonder why….”, he raises his eyebrows, throwing a look to Matsukawa.

“You can use the restroom inside the station?”

“Fuck no, have you seen how many creeps are there around this time of the day?”  
The dark haired boy chuckles.

“Okay, okay. Well then, let’s go.”

Back home, his phone chimes with another text message.

thicc brows  
  
_deleted message_   
Sorry, wrong chat.  
Hope you got home safe.  
  


For the first time since their encounter in the night club, Hanamaki fakes to be asleep, not answering the text. He knows it’s childish, and doesn’t get him nowhere. But in the dim light of his room, with the background noise of a happy Oikawa singing to Hamilton in their shower, he can’t keep up his posture. He curls on his bed, tears leaking down. It’s like in one of those Greys Anatomy episodes, where something really heartbreaking happens, and they choose one of those sappy love-songs to show the main character full screen, before fading out into the black screens, credits rolling before the commercial break is on.  
But instead of a bunch of happy commercials, which want to sell him beauty products, iPhones or a new car, Hanamaki is left with a bitter taste of rejection.

Far back in his head, he knows he’s not entirely fair to Matsukawa. The latter was right: He made it clear from the beginning that he was just messing around, enjoying the good nights on the way to getting back to normal after a messy break up. He knows that Matsukawa is still too invested with his ex, and even if they’d get together and made it official, it wouldn’t make Hanamaki happy.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he feels heartbroken. So while Oikawa hits a really high note that sounds through the wall, he hugs one of his pillows even tighter, and bitterly thinks “Yeah, maybe I will never be satisfied, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: If you never watched the beautiful IwaOi-Hamilton-crossover, please do it now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWdjppA8x9c


	5. Smiles don't lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, Maki-chan! Look who's here! Mr. Handsome-Eyebrows!”   
> 'Thank you dumbass, I can see that', Hanamaki thinks. He hadn’t told Oikawa what happened, being too embarrassed to be the one with the feelings this time. Well, this is how your own pride bites you in the ass, big times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please start the spotify-playlist (see first chapter) at song no. 15 "Going Out"

The next few days are hard. Hanamaki tries to avoid Matsukawa, even if he knows it’s pathetic. But days turn into one week, then two, three, and finally a whole month has passed. Despite his own heartbreak making his life somehow miserable, it’s actually pretty easy to avoid the other man. And Hanamaki is glad about it. Outside of their casual hookups, they didn’t share any kind of daily interactions in the past. With Hanamki still being in university, and Matsukawa working at the funeral home, and both of them living in opposite parts of town, it’s nearly impossible to run into each other. And Hanamki makes sure to not go clubbing. He’s deep into his studies, getting buried under a ton of unfinished papers, and not-so-good-going art projects.

So to say that he’s taken back when he stumbles home after a long study session on a Thursday evening, craving for aspirin and instant ramen (in that particular order), only to find Matsukawa and Oikawa chatting on the couch in the living room, is kind of an understatement.

“Oh, Maki-chan! Look who's here! Mr. Handsome-Eyebrows!” 

_ Thank you dumbass, I can see that, _ Hanamaki thinks. He hadn’t told Oikawa what happened, being too embarrassed to be the one with the feelings this time.  _ Well, this is how your own pride bites you in the ass, big times. _

Oikawa happily chatters on and on: “Oh you look terrible, another study session? They’re not good for your health! I always tell him to look more after himself, but you know, it’s so hard convincing the young.”

Hanamaki is definitely not up for this shit. He grunts a greeting to both of them, making his way to the kitchen. He rummages through the counters for something to eat, and indeed finds a pack of instant ramen in the back that may have been in this apartment before they both moved in. Still, food is food. While he fills the kettle with warm water, he can hear Oikawa's stupid X-Files ringtone from the couch. 

“Oh, it’s Iwa-chan. If you excuse me, I have to take this. Iwa-chaaaaaan~”, and with that, the great king makes his exit.

_ Great. _

“Be right back,” Hanamki mumbles, leaving the room too, to get some aspirin out of the cupboard under the bathroom sink. And while he’s there looking for the magic pill against his upcoming headache, he thinks it’s probably a good idea to never come out of the bathroom ever again. Maybe if he stays here long enough, Matsukawa leaves, and he won’t have to encounter him. At least not now. Or maybe he can squeeze through the bathroom window, thanks to his hips being so slim. But Hanamaki knows none of those strategies will work. So he opts for the aspirin and a quick wash of his face. 

_ See, I look healthy now. Healthy and totally normal _ , he thinks to himself, looking in the mirror.

When he comes back into the living room, Matsukawa has moved from the couch over to the counter. The kettle beeps just in time, and Hanamaki is relieved to have something to do for his fidgeting hands.

“I’m not sure we have some more, so if you want some too, you’ll have to go for the fruit loops.” He tries to keep a steady voice, breathing evenly, while his fingers are fumbling with the lid of the ramen cup. 

“Nah it’s fine.” Matsukawa smiles. ”Just came over to check on you.”

“Oh, why’s that?”, Hanamaki tries his best to look dumbfounded. He learned from the best (Oikawa).

“You know why. You barely answer my texts.”   
He feels Matsukawas stare as he tries to close the lid so it doesn’t open up again because of the steam coming out of the cup. 

_ Stupid instant ramen.  _

“You heard Oikawa. Absurd paper deadlines, late-night study sessions, normal college life. I was busy.”

“You weren’t before.”

Hanamaki knows Matsukawa tries to get him into a corner. But he’s having none of that. Finally, the lid is on. Only three more minutes until his junk food redemption. He looks at Matsukawa, taking the challenge.

“Well, time changes.”

Matsukawa smiles and looks down at his hands. The silence between them is only filled with the ticking of the clock on the wall, and Oikawa’s chatter in the background.

“I didn’t hope it would be so soon.”, Matsukawa speaks again, looking back up into Hanamaki’s eyes.

He knows what that means: ‘ _ I hope we could have spent some more time together, fooled around some more. _ ’ – but he’s not giving Matsukawa any of this. Hell, he doesn’t even know what he wants for himself. Okay, scratch that. He knows what he wants, but he also knows he can’t have it.  _ Fuck this shit. _

“I don’t really know what you mea-”, he starts but is interrupted with another waltzing in of Oikawa.

“Maki-chaaaaan! Iwa-chan is coming over, we wanna watch the new Godzilla movie. You wanna join us? Mr. Handsome-eyebrows can join too!”

The three minutes of his instant ramen preparation are over, and Hanamki has to decide. He could say he’s tired – which is true – and give some crappy excuse why Matsukawa can’t stay. But he knows Oikawa will spend the rest of the evening nudging him to tell the whole truth. And to be honest, now that he saw Matsukawa again, he’s bitterly reminded of how much he missed the other man. He somehow wants him to leave, and somehow doesn’t. _ Ah fuck, life is weird.  _ Can’t he be selfish sometimes?

With Matsukawa, who hasn’t made any move of leaving, and Oikawa staring at him, he sighs: “Well, a movie night it is!”

“Yaaaaay, gonna buy some snacks!”, with that, Oikawa is faster out of the door than Hanamaki could have said ‘ _ Please don’t let me alone with this sexy asshole’ _ . So he decides to stumble back to the only safe place in this home that had never let him down: the bathroom.

“Gonna take a shower”, he grunts. Halfway through the living room he turns around, his upbringing getting the better of himself: “Well... there is the couch. Make yourself home, I guess.”

The ramen cup stands forgotten on the counter.

After a short, but thankfully uneventful shower, Hanamki trotters back into the living room – only to find it empty.

_ Maybe he left after all _ , he thinks but makes his way to his own room to grab some fresh clothes.

There he finds Matsukawa, sitting on his desk, shuffling through one of Hanamaki’s sketchbooks.

“Excuse me?”

“Didn’t know you drew this well. They’re beautiful.”

Hanamaki shouldn’t be so confused by this compliment, but still, he can’t decide between being flattered and being angry.

“Yeah well, not studying art design for nothing”, he says while searching for something casual to wear for the movie night.

He’s on the brink of asking Matsukawa to leave the room so he can change, but then shrugs to himself. Nothing the other man hasn’t seen before. So he turns his back to the desk and strips down to his underwear. When he finally turns around, after getting comfortable in a grey hoodie and some pair of old sweatpants, he finds Matsukawa starring. The look in his eyes set’s Hanamaki on fire. Literally, he can feel himself getting red. 

He coughs slightly but is taken aback, when Matsukawas stands up abruptly, closing the distance between them.

“Wha-”, Hanamaki starts, but is – thank god – saved by Oikawa. Again. The front door opens, and his best friend stumbles into the apartment, another man on his heels.

“We’re back. Hope you’re all dressed up and not fucking on the couch you rabbits!”

“Shut up Trashykawa”, the man mumbles, clearly embarrassed by the choice of words from his boyfriend.

“But Iwa-chan, didn’t you notice how they dry humped each other in the Izakaya last time we four went out?” 

_ Great _ , Hanamaki thinks,  _ great, great, great. Seems everyone’s getting a piece of my love-life, except me. _

He escapes his room without a second glance to Matsukawa, and finds the couple in the small kitchen area, unpacking the bags from the nearby konbini.

“Hey Iwaizumi. Nice to see you’re still keeping up with this shithead” Hanamaki greets him, and adds: “I hope you brought some beer together with the snacks.”

Of course they had, and Hanamaki enjoys the taste as he takes another long sip of his beer. He can’t lie. The movie is pretty good. Well, it would be even better without Oikawa, who talks through all of the scenes, and Iwaizumi giving him a flick right next to the ear each time, but never stops caressing the other’s head afterward. Still, it’s a pretty good film.

He is sandwiched on the couch, between Iwaizumi on his left and Matsukawa on his right, with Oikawa on the ground, settled between Iwaizumis legs.

For the first twenty minutes, Hanamaki tries his best to relax. He had a shitty day, and now he’s watching a movie with friends. So far, so good. Another sip of beer.

_ But he’s not your friend _ , a voice in his head says.  _ He’s your fuck buddy. The sexy guy you want to be your boyfriend – but he doesn’t want you to be his. He only likes you when he can fuck you. _

Well, thank you dark-inner-void. Maybe he should have worked this shit out for himself, like they did on Oprah, instead of closing all those feelings inside his head and heart.  _ Talking about being too late... _

Suddenly, Hanamaki feels very sleepy. Maybe it’s the beer. Maybe it’s just all too much. He yawns.

“You can rest if you’re tired,” Matsukawa whispers while patting his shoulder, signaling for him to lay his head down.

_ Yeah, I really am tired _ , Hanamaki thinks.

He’s gently nudged awake and catches a glimpse of the credits.

“It’s already over?”, he yawns again, rubbing his eyes. They were alone on the couch. Right next to Hanamaki is a wet spot on the couch. Weird.

Matsukawa chuckles deep. 

“Yeah, you missed the best part: Iwaizumi got beer all over his pants because Oikawa was so scared at one scene, he nearly jumped onto the couch, punching Iwaizumi into his balls in the process. It was gold. But they both left shortly after.”

_ Ah, so Oikawa is probably going to stay over at Iwaizumi’s, the latter getting a nice serving of I’m-sorry-I-punched-you-in-the-guts-make-up-sex right now. Lucky bastard. _

Hanamaki pouts: “Why didn’t you wake me up? I missed all the action.”

“Well, you really looked tired. And you snored, so I thought it would be best to just leave you asleep.”

Hanamaki’s pouts deepened, making Oikawa a run for his money: “I never snore.”

They stare at each other. 

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Matsukawa whispers as he closes the distance between them once more.

Hanamaki doesn’t know how it happened. One second he’s sitting on the couch, the next he’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch, drooling around Matsukawas dick, while the other man has his hands on both sides of his head, bobbing it up and down in a slow, but still ravishing pace. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Hanamaki doesn’t want to feel anything besides the pleasure of sex right now. He doesn’t want to feel the pain in his heart. He wants to suck dick. He wants to be wracked, literally getting his mind fucked out again, forgetting all those thoughts he’s having. He wants to feel wanted. 

Well, maybe Matsukawa isn’t the right person to choose for this kind of mission – but you know, you take what you can get. So he bobs down even deeper, his nose nearly touching the nicely trimmed locks between Matsukawas legs.

“Yes babe, take that cock.”

Another swirl of the tongue. Hanamaki tries to shut off the voice in his head, tries to enjoy the moment. Because he likes sucking dick, and Matsukawa has a really nice dick. But somehow, Present-Hanamaki isn’t able to distinguish between sex and feelings. And with every bob of his head and every moan of Matsukawa, it gets harder for him to not think about his broken heart. And the man who broke it – and whose dick he has in his mouth right now. That’s some crazy irony. And there is this feeling of throwing up again, which is NOT coming from deepthroating, Hanamaki is sure.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. I wanna keep you down there forever.”

_ Okay, that’s enough.  _ Hanamaki comes to a halt. He knows it’s just Matsukawas way of talking dirty, of getting him turned on as well. But it stirs something inside him. Something bad and broken, he desperately tried to ignore.

He lets go of Matsukawas dick, stumbles to come to his feet, wiping the spit and precome that ran over his chin with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I think you should leave now.”

It surely is a comedic scene to watch: Hanamaki standing in front of the couch, looking everywhere but at Matsukawa, clasping his hands. And Matsukawa sitting there with his dick still exposed, his mouth opened with a dumbfounded expression. But he seems to understand.

He doesn’t say a word while zipping his pants back up, and doesn’t try to convince Hanamaki otherwise. Or talk to him at all. He only looks at Hanamaki from the front door, after putting his shoes on, a loop-sided, sad smile on his face. Then the door falls into its lock, and it’s silent again.

And while the whole city is quite asleep, Hanamaki cries himself to sleep a second time in a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short + angsty. That's how I like my chapters. No, just kidding. 
> 
> This was really fun to write – even more with the best beta ever, who reads every shit I produce – and turns it into something beautiful! Thank you ♥


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